


Two of Us

by kiwiOCD



Category: Castle
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:55:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1677212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiOCD/pseuds/kiwiOCD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to the M rated accompaniment to 'One of Us'.</p><p>The chapters will align with storyline for One of Us. Note not every chapter will have a M accompaniment. </p><p>WARNING – M rated includes sexual content. If it is not your thing please don't continue reading.</p><p>Disclaimer – I don't own anything to do with Castle except my copy of the DVD's and books. Any and all legal stuff applies too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cabin Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter fits with Chapter 2 'Beginnings' of One of Us.
> 
> It is October 2012. Rick Castle and Kate Beckett have – finally - been together as a couple for almost 6 months. After a particularly difficult case, Captain Gates has given the team a long weekend and at Jim Beckett's suggestion Kate and Rick are going to escape to the Beckett family cabin in the Catskills to relax and spend some quality time together.

* * *

**Thursday.**

It had been more than a week-and-a-half, almost two weeks since they were last intimate. Her period and then a hell of case that left them all shattered and drained beyond exhaustion had killed any ability or desire to be amorous.

Gates had given the team a long weekend starting that Thursday night. Kate couldn't help feel that the Captain at the very least suspected them, if not outright knew. Still they went through the motions of their subterfuge. Of course having their friends know took a little of the edge off if it also tended to make them just a tad complacent. Both of them she was honest enough to admit sometimes.

Somehow she made enough time on the Wednesday afternoon to meet her Dad for a quick catch-up and coffee. Rick had stayed back in the Precinct and worked with Ryan on the case and their ever present work-partner-only alibi. Meanwhile Esposito had taken his turn and crashed on the couch in the break room.

On her return, it was immediately apparent to Castle that whatever Kate and her Dad had discussed over coffee had washed some of the frustration and lethargy away and with the gleam of a spark in her eyes. She had pulled him aside without so much as a by-your-leave and told him, resulting in the self-same twinkle in his eyes when they returned from the break room with coffees for all the team. Ryan noticed and if he had possessed more energy he would have probably ragged on 'Mom and Dad' but it was days too late for that. Fortuitously for all, the dynamic duo's newfound energy also powered the breakthrough and less than a day later they had wrapped the case up and the team separated for their much-needed downtime.

* * *

Although it was late in the season, they taken the chance to follow her Dad's suggestion. A weekend at the Beckett family cabin in the Catskills. And hey if it rained a lot then being stuck inside with a roaring log fire and their own body heat was not exactly going to be the end of the world. That bit was definitely not her Dad's suggestion. Ewwhhh!

Exiting the Precinct that Thursday night she had  _shaken hands_  with her partner before she headed back to her place to sleep and then pack in the morning. Rick did likewise with the minor variation of having at least one red-head waiting at home to hug.

* * *

**Friday.**

He had picked her up on the dot of ten in the morning outside her apartment. For the first time in nearly three days she got to kiss him properly - full of regret, longing, promise and desire. From the look on his face, her decision to meet on the curb was the right one. If he had come up, they would never have left her apartment. She was beginning to wonder why she had an apartment at all, except for when they needed to escape the Loft for alone time. As ever they never discussed it, but she felt they were getting closer to the need to make decisions, big decisions.

She has a large duffel bag packed with linens and bedding, a smaller ruck sack with her clothes and her daypack with her personal gear including badge and sidearm.

The tailgate raises automatically – of course it would – and she spies a box of food, a medium size cooler, and bag containing his own clothes, and daypack of his own. She's pleasantly surprised to find nothing else there. It would appear he's followed her instructions. Of course she had issued the instructions with all sorts of inducements to encourage his compliance.

She had been vaguely disappointed to see him behind the wheel of the dark grey SUV. That they were not going up in the Ferrari or even the silver Mercedes was a shame but she had to concede that the rented Jeep was the perfect compromise. Luxurious enough for the drive but yet able to blend in outside the city. Nothing says famous author on dirty weekend than a woman comfortably nestled beside the ruggedly handsome (not that she'll ever admit it, too much anyway) driver of a flame red Ferrari.

She had even let him drive. She had messed with the radio just to extract a small measure of revenge for all his earlier infractions. She had given him address on Wednesday night and he had the GPS already programmed. And he really was an assured driver. So much so she took a nap and let him and the GPS navigate to the cabin with just a single rest stop on the way.

* * *

Of course the place hadn't changed much, even it had been about fifteen months since she was last here. When she left to return to the city and active duty, she hadn't known if she would ever be able to come back. Too many memories pushing uncomfortably against her. Unconsciously she had held out her hand and was not surprised when she felt the warm, slightly sweaty palm of her partner nestle against hers, and squeeze reassuringly.

It was in need of a bit of TLC but was otherwise sound and homely. The post war cabin was largely timber with a low stone foundation. The 'L' shaped structure had half an upstairs with room for two bedrooms, toilet and small bathroom. Downstairs comprised a laundry/mud/snow room, larder, kitchen, and large living room complete with sofa bed, log fireplace and a three-quarters wrap around deck on the outside.

Rick had been silent since they exited the vehicle.

"Nice place. So this is where you spent the summer?" He can't help the question that escapes his lips.

She nods, having expected it or something similar, and then feels the need to explain more.

"Rick I've never had anyone up here. This is my Dad's cabin now." He nods but doesn't look reassured so she expands.

"I've barely been here since my Mom, except for after the shooting. I'd broken up with Josh before I came here. He never came here. No one else except my Dad and me, since Mom." Until you is left unsaid.

"Well I'm honored." He squeezes her hand, the serious look on his face demonstrably proving how much he needed that information.

"I wish I could say the same about the Hamptons."

"Shush. It's different and you know it. We're moving forward Rick, not looking back."

She kisses him for good measure too. He deserved so much more.

Before emptying the Jeep, she decides to give him the dollar tour of the cabin, which in hindsight should have been the five buck version given how frequently he's stopped her to inspect some item closer, or pose a question. She also flips the heating on, although there's no snow yet, it's chilly enough and she had plans that involve them wearing far less than the season requires. Plus it also heats the water tank.

Then they're back at the SUV to unload.

"There's only one double bed - unless you want to sleep in my single bed." So not a question.

"So that's why you bought all the bedding" he says as he hefts her duffel bag. "Feels like there's a complete set in here."

"Pretty much. Much as my Dad likes you I don't think he'd appreciate us getting the bedding funky."

"As a Dad I can relate to that." Then as if his mind finally caught up. "Funky? Beckett what are you, eleven?"

"Definitely not, and I'll prove it to you later." She challenges or rather promises. Soon too.

"Even so, he likes you it was his suggestion we take a break up here, well I believe that it is evidence that shows how much my Dad thinks of you."

"I like him too. But I really, really like his daughter." And more but that word still doesn't flow freely between them. Yet.

"You do?"

"Oh Yeah. And I've missed her." Suddenly he's crowding her in.

"Care to show me how much?" Bugger waiting. Soon, almost now will be more than fine.

"Absolutely."

"The bed's not made."

"Anyway who says we need to have sex on the bed?"

"Fantastic idea." He's really in her space now.

"Wow Tarzan, back off a second. Unpacking a few things first."

"Spoilsport!"

She arches her eyebrows and fixes him with that look he knows is going to stop their children dead in the very act of whatever future mischief they are in.

"Right you are Dear. Let's get unpacked." He responds.

"Did you just 'Dear' me Richard Castle?" She's doing her best to keep a serious straight face.

"Maybe Honey." He's not.

"Ow! What is it with you and my ears?" he complains as she strides away.

"You coming Castle?" tossed over her shoulder as her long legs, encased in skinny jeans and sinfully shiny black leather boots, race for the cabin.

* * *

They barely managed to put the food away, the upstairs bed certainly doesn't get made – they never reach the stairs, and the sheets from the duffel are only removed to be strategically draped over the downstairs sofa bed. The first signs of the heating working take enough of the late autumn chill from the living room.

Clothes have come off with barely a pause, their usual dance of kisses, touching and teasing neglected in the haste to disrobe and begin.

She's still standing when he starts with one finger. Fuck it's tight. She almost jumps at his sudden penetration despite the moisture seeping from her. God it's almost embarrassing how wet she gets for him. Especially with minimal effort. Still, even with her arousal his single finger is snug in there. Such big hands, capable of so, so much.

The thought and prospect of more is well enticing to say the least. When she's had a chance to build up to it. Though she may not get the chance this time. All the indicators are this is going to be very hot, dirty and fast. Which is good as the heating hasn't really had a chance to work, but they're not stopping.

He's up close to her, and without her heels he towers over her. All body heat, arousal, and intent. His other hand roaming the expanses of her nakedness whilst the first explores her internally.

He's not looking down there – where his hand is thrusting. He's still too busy gazing - eyes dark and stormy - at her face, drinking in her expression as he mauls her. She's staring back at him, her face a matching mask of lust, open and joyful.

He withdraws his index finger and then slowly returns this time rotating his wrist and he catches the change in her expression at the momentary loss of contact. There is no grin just an intense and focused concentration.

Then he returns and his fingers dance and glide – she's slick and open for him - with growing urgency.

She hasn't said anything since they began, but her breathing is slowly accelerating, deepening with the cadence of his strokes with his one digit. Her own hands chase over his body somehow never approaching his groin and as he continues she needs to grip and hold him in response to his mastery over her, and a growing need to support her body as her legs start to shake.

He withdraws his hand again, and she feels the loss almost instantly. She schools her face to hide the disappointment of the temporary absent sensation from her pussy and fights her own urgent desire to use her own hand to replace the fantastic sensations of him, when he swipes his index finger over, first her left and then her right nipple. She appears to mewl under her gulped breath.

He leans forward to taste her from her nipples. As he does, he reinserts his finger, thrusts a couple of times and with the next insertion there is more as he adds another broad digit. It's almost too much. When he scissors his fingers in again she uses her muscles to clamp down on them.

She loves the expression of his face. It's a blend of awe and arousal and she's almost certain that most of the blood in his body has diverted to his groin. It certainly has in her body. As she glances down seeking confirmation of his arousal, that's when he takes her over.

With two fingers in her, his thumb brushes the hood of her clit and that's all that is needed to break her. The death grip on his two fingers will have confirmed her peak even if her near howl of release that issued from her mouth hadn't as her legs do give way.

Then she's aware of his presence looming over her. Shit, she'd lost track of the moment, near delirious from the instant of release until now. As she comes back she feels him nudge against her. Demanding entrance.

Oh she's lying down on the sofa.

When did that happen?

How did he even get the condom on?

Well who the fuck cares?

She's so desperate she would have taken him bareback. She loves the sensation of his naked cock inside her. It's possibly the most intimate, dirty thing she can think of. Then without a warning, her mind, buzzed by endorphins, casually draws an image of him flooding her with his spunk and the glorious result of their intermingling. She clamps down on the not-so-rogue thoughts of their future child and forces her focus back on the moment. She can't even bring herself to summon any objection, fight or flight, her only vestiges of her once solitary self-preservation is to keep such thoughts to herself for just a while longer.

She hasn't even touched him. Well his body yes but her hands haven't even made it to his erection which now encased in latex and is nudging between her legs, the head just starting to push its way into her. She loves the sensation of the bulbous head there, nestling into her, comforting and confronting, a threat and a promise.

He probably isn't quite the longest she's ever had but fuck he's by far the broadest and she's never been less than absolutely fucking filled by him.

She's shaken from her reverie as he loses patience and they both gasp as they merge together, and shit he feels like a log tonight.

There is a shared urgency between them and an unspoken agreement to make this quick and dirty. Slow and sensuous can come later.

The sofa isn't big enough for him in classic missionary but he's still on top, and between her spread legs, but he's kneeling there, his hands on her ankles.

He lifts her legs so that the bottom of her calves rest on his shoulders and she feels so open to him. There is that filthy sound of them as his thighs, her arse and their combined lubrication merge in a wicked sound that should be illegal if it weren't so addictively good.

It takes him no time at all, especially as she helps him along with the visuals of her right hand at her apex rubbing her clit as he drives into her, and the other hand caressing her nipples and then his.

He climaxes with not a single word spoken during the entire, sinfully short session. He's never not said anything before. She would have judged him incapable of it, if asked previously.

* * *

She's too drained to move, and he is too for a while.

Eventually he recovers enough and Rick moves off to clean up – she barely manages stuttered directions to the downstairs bathroom - and she lies there delightfully dazed but yet somehow unsated with the delicious agony of his absence still coursing through her. She's almost uncomfortably hypersensitive down there still, and she can't help herself.

Unconsciously her right hand is between her legs. She doesn't even bother with one finger, starts with two and then rapidly with three fingers. Even that doesn't assuage her lust. She adds a fourth. She's never done that. Never been able to before. Before him she'd never been able to do, and be so much.

Shit, now she's almost fisting herself when she's aware of his return. She can't begin to put into words what his presence does for her. How much he means to her. How turned on she is now and so many other times. Of fighting the almost crushing compulsion to drag him into Interrogation or simply fuck his brains out over her desk. God knows it would be so, so good. Their role-play over his desk in the Loft had already confirmed that.

Rick's standing there with an expression she can't quite place. Is he jealous? Whatever the emotion she can recognise the effect her self-ministrations have had on one part of his anatomy and God he's hard again.

He's across the room and at her side in a moment. And with her other hand she grasps his cock and tugs him towards her.

She pushes him down onto the sofa bed as she rises up. Almost forcing him onto his back she ensures that there is enough space for her to work with. Not the easiest thing as he is so solid and broad and fills the sofa.

She almost laughs at the surprise, near shock that still lines his face. He so clearly wasn't expecting this. Scooting up his body she has the perfect thing to fix that expression and her need.

So in seconds before he can even adjust or respond other than by instinct Kate is astride him riding his face, her knees planted by his ears and her legs and feet hooked over his shoulders and down his body. He recovers well from any surprise and is definitely in the game.

She feels his tongue snake from her pussy chasing down and then it's playing across her anus. Fuck! That shouldn't feel so good. Then just as quick it is back on her core. Pushing against her lips, seeking her nub. The rasp across her sensitivity has her fighting every urge to twist and turn at the near torture of the sensation. As it is her thighs tense and clamp harder in contact with him.

His tongue repeats the movements tracing the same path. Then his hands snake up her body, every small touch burning until he finds both breasts and the pads of his thumbs drag over her nipples and she's gone again as he hums against her clit.

It's a small orgasm in comparison to the last but she dismounts unsteadily and curls her body into his, kissing her essence from his face.

Her left hand grasps him as she rearranges herself near his midriff.

She leans into his body, the comfortable glue of their sweat despite the chill binds their bodies. She moves her head close to his ear.

"Hey there BIG boy." He grunts.

"You ready to go again?" He twitches enthusiastically in affirmation and there is a rumble of a growl from the other end. Oh good. She releases him for second, almost giggling at the satisfying slap of his hardness against his midriff.

Rising to her knees she stretches her left leg out, the long limb brushing over his erection before she brings her centre in line with his. Her left hand seeks him out again and still raised up on her knees she brushes his naked and engorged head across her.

Fuck that's so good.

He opens his mouth to speak. To protest the lack of protection she's sure, but she shakes him off. She wants, no needs, him naked inside her. To feel his flesh within her. The ultimate contract between them, completely unadorned and honest contact of the most intensely intimate nature.

She sinks, just a little, and feels him as she wraps around him, simultaneous moans elicited from both of them. She raises up, breaking the contact for a second, and despite her knowledge her own groan of loss is louder than his.

Nestling back down she takes him deeper this time, still with her left hand wrapped around him. Her right hand rest on his chest and now his come wandering, caressing, cajoling, teasing and touching. Oh why did she ever deny his hands before? So gentle, so deft, so sure, so him.

She rises again but doesn't quite break the contact, and uses her hand to rub his head across all of her. From ass crack to clit and back. She trembles not only with the sensations but the sheer power of him. His hands have found her pebbled nipples and just firmly enough draw fiery sensations there to match her actions between them.

Suddenly it's all too much and her hand releases him as she sinks completely on him. The fire within her drives her on and she moves her hips into rhythm with flex of her muscles around him. He's solid and immobile beneath her, his hands have stilled and fallen away, his face rapt, the eyes glazed with everything as he lets her fuck him.

She moves her torso forward bring her head towards him, and instinctively licks her lips in preparation for contact with his.

There is nothing is nothing gentle about the crash of their mouths together. Tongue duel, teeth nip and clash, flesh engorged and skin scrapes and flushes with contact and lust.

Then he's moving beneath her and with her. Pushing his length inside her and withdrawing with tantalizing sensation of near loss and longing before plunging back in.

As her drives into her, she breaks the contact of their lips and drives her head into the nap of his neck. Her mouth seeking his pulse point, teeth nuzzling and nipping, losing herself in the sensations that are overwhelming her.

So close. So near. Her right hand navigates the close confines of their bodies, her fingernails trail briefly and teasingly over the base of his prick before selfishly seeking her trigger.

Ceasing her movements, she lets him take control. He slows, temporarily, before he begins to gradually rebuild the pace. He starts by slowly rocking his hips back and forward in a mainly horizontal manner and feels the girth push and prod her.

Then his knees come up, driving her legs wider, and there's no other term than to say he's hammering into her. There is no concept of time until one especially forceful drive bring him so deep that his pubic bone is flush with her and that's enough with her fingers to take her far over.

* * *

Now she can't take any more. She's for want of a better term fucked out. There is a numbness that signifies she'll be pleasantly sore tomorrow.

Rick senses this discomfort but before he can do anything she is sliding off and down his body keeping as much skin-to-skin contact as possible until she is nestled in the V of his legs.

Taking him in her hands she pumps him, feeling their combined lubrication as she stretches her fingers to take a full grasp round him.

Sliding her knees back a little more she bends down and licks his head. Then draws him into her mouth. She's tasting herself on him. And his pre-cum of course. He definitely was drooler.

There's so much meaning and emotion flooding through her that even now when they're having the rawest possible sex, fucking not loving, that it almost overwhelms her. She wants to tell him so much, try despite her lack of words, to explain what she feels and how much she needs him.

Removing him from her mouth, she hears the groan - is it the loss of sensation, maddening desire, maybe the wicked combination of both? She kisses the end of him so sweetly and lovingly, smiling as she does so, and act so utterly incongruous she has to fight back the laugh that wants to break free with it.

She takes him back into mouth, nipping with her teeth, coating him with her saliva.

She withdraws him from her mouth, her tongue reluctantly trailing his length in farewell as she leans forward and rubs him across her nipples, one after the other. Then using gravity and her biceps she pushes her breasts together to form cleavage and slides him into the vale using their lubricant and her saliva to give him a boob job.

As her pace quickens he finally speaks.

"Oh God Kate!" her name drips from his lips, the endearment wrapped in layers of lust and love.

"Finish me…please." He's so nearly begging.

"Kate. So close…..please." Oh fuck it, he really is begging. And she loves it. That she can do this to him. That he waited for her. Wants her. Promises her everything. Forever.

Oh not in a million years did ever think this would happen. She has her very own playboy pleading for release and she knows just how to get it. Bending back down towards him, she adjusts her position then resumes her oral assault.

As she does so, she brushes one finger across his perineum and feels his surge up towards her mouth. She's ready for him and she takes him, or at least the head and a bit more inside. She pushes her finger again, past the perineum and just the slightest penetration and holy hell that does it.

Despite him coming less than thirty minutes ago, his discharge is surprising forceful and copious. She swallows some down but then a wicked thought strikes and she moves back up his body leaving him still grasped throbbing in her right hand, her left hand on the floor to support her as she glides her body up his. She leans forward bring her head into his, her eyes alight with mischief and challenge, the tip of her tongue poking teasing between her swollen lips.

With the residue of his cum in her mouth she leans in to kiss him, open mouthed already in expectation of their tongues dancing whilst he still twitches in her palm. For his part he doesn't back down although they have never done this. In a little part of her mind she wonders if he has done it with someone else, knows how he tastes.

Then her mouth is on his, her tongue forcing any unfound reluctance on his part aside as they exchange fluids. The excitement still courses through their bodies even as the high of their orgasms fades.

Richard Castle was stunned. Shit they've never done that before. God it was hot. He was familiar the taste of his own semen, although it had been many years since he had tasted it. But that was a story for another day or maybe never. They hadn't discussed former partners in that sort of detail and he's not crass enough to ever contemplate it.

He pulls her in to him, wraps the sheet around them and he reaches a long arm out and snags the quilt cover from the floor and pulls it over their rapidly cooling bodies.

She kisses him twice more, each softer and yet more intense than before, and then is turning away from him. He doesn't mind as she's spooning her arse into him, rotating her hips a few times as she teases his softening erection. He can sense her smug grin and smoky eyes, the easing lust and the cascading love. He's still in shock that he gets to do this. To be the one she lets to this to her. There's no place he'd rather be.

He reaches over to wrap one arm around her, securing both of them.

Nap time.

* * *

They wake sometime later. Still wrapped together, she's aware that she's somewhat hot and sweaty. And funky. Both of them are.

She feels him move against her and his fingers drum against her stomach. He's awake too. She speaks first.

"You know perhaps we should clean up, put some clothes on and get the fire going?"

Rick's stomach growls in affirmation. Hungry.

"And food too." Kate adds for good measure.

"Good idea. Where's the best shower?"

She looks down at her watch. Wow, almost four o'clock. They've napped for a while but it also means that the hot water shared with the heating should be okay.

"Upstairs. There should be enough hot water now, especially if we shower together. It will be a squeeze though."

"Lead the way."

"Yeah. You just want to ogle my bare naked ass."

"Absolutely. Guilty as charged."

* * *

Showering together in the cabin is definitely an exercise in creative space sharing and compromise. Their reservoirs of ardour drained, they still spend too long in the shower and discover just how small the hot water tank is.

Laughing they flee the inhospitable cold water for the fluffy towels and then some casual indoor clothes.

Returning downstairs it is time for them to complete the interrupted packing.

Kate show's Rick how to light the log fire in the living room. After a couple of attempts he turns in triumph at the flaring evidence of his ability. She can't but help laugh with him and at him.

It doesn't take long to clean up and haul the bedding and ruck sacks upstairs.

Tonight's supper is simple. Pork and beans. Rustic bread and beer.

Despite the almost antique TV in the corner, they are content to spend the evening in the company of each other and the books they have bought.

* * *

It's getting late. Traipsing upstairs, they grin as they realise they are yet to make the bed. And make use of it.

"You know Castle, I think this is the first time I've ever made the bed and the sheets were funky before I even put them on."

"Well Kate, I do like to get  _funky_  with you."

"Right back at you writer boy but I'll remind you I want my beauty sleep tonight. You've worn me out. Raincheck until tomorrow."

"Yes Dear."

"OUCH!"

What can she say? The pillow was extremely handy.

* * *

**Saturday.**

The despite their relatively early night, their previous lack of sleep had kept them abed until well past sunrise. One glance out the window had disappointed Kate with the overcast skies and light rain. As much as she would like to stay locked up with him, she wanted to share all of the cabin with him and that meant the wonders of the forest and nearby lake too.

They had indulged in a protracted snuggle in bed before dressing and a simple breakfast of oats and fruit. With coffee.

She persuaded him outside and the late morning found then walking down to through familiar but overgrown paths to the lake. Despite the weather they both felt alive in brisk morning air, the light drizzle a familiar rhythm to their strides as their long legs carried them towards the water.

She didn't know how familiar Rick was with the world outside of the city, but she was pleasantly surprised by his quiet appreciative nature and his strangely reticent introspective as she shared this place and some of her memories with him.

* * *

Returning to the cabin they hang the wet gear in the mud room and shower before a lazy lunch on the wrap around deck. He makes a mean sandwich so long as his urge to add too many ingredients, especially contrasting ones, can be curbed. There are long periods of comfortable silence as they drink beer and enjoy the warmth of the blankets wrapped round them to keep the chill at bay.

They're still sitting there mainly watching the rain fall, when Rick touches her arm. Staying silent she scans their surrounds and then she spots what he has observed.

Partially hidden by the rain, and skirting the edge of the tree line is a family of deer. A clearly adult hind, and two calves or fawns, one still all spindly legs and uncertain movements. They've come up to the outskirts of the cleaning round the cabin. He watches her entranced by this encroachment of nature into the man-made world. Her simple smile, so honest and unguarded, free and glowing. He wants that for her every day. Whether he causes or it or simply being able to witness it.

The hind appears to stare right at her before nudging her charges away into the cover of the woods. Her eyes alight with the simple wonder of what she has witnessed, she turns to him, only to find his stare locked on her. Everything she ever wanted confirmation of is said in those blue eyes.

* * *

They retreat inside as the afternoon wears on, and the rain settles in and with it her Dad's TV is done for, reception totally screwed by the constant interference.

They read books, play cards, and for a while Rick strives for a strong enough signal for his tablet and eventually gives up after yet another page that only partially loads. Kate distracts him with some classic necking and high-school style make out, their hands roaming under each other shirts. A taster for latter.

* * *

They enjoy a simple supper salmon steaks and foil roasted vegetables from the fireplace accompanied by nice bottle of rose wine left them pleasantly full and slightly buzzed.

Kate excused herself to slip into something more comfortable, Rick was already wearing only track pants and sweatshirt as Kate's hands had so artfully discovered earlier.

* * *

Her something more comfortable was discarded on the floor, along with Rick's clothes.

Naked once again they were busy demonstrating without the words just how much they loved each other.

The fire wasn't the only thing in the room keeping them heated but as the wood was still a little damp and crackled and spluttered just a bit.

"Arrgh...I think an ember just landed on my arse."  _Damn he's was just getting to the good point._

"Well I always thought you had a hot ass Castle!"

"Oh funny har har."

"Oh come back down here you baby, I'll kiss it better...maybe I'll find something to distract you while I'm down there."

* * *

**Sunday.**

Kate had risen early – her sleep levels restored - and started cleaning in the cabin in preparation for their eventual departure back to City late that afternoon. They planned to head into the local town for the market and lunch in between.

One of the downsides of the cabin was no radio – her Dad had a portable set he must have taken back to the city with him last time – and so without music and feeling a little lonely and somewhat bored despite her tasks, she started making enough noise to eventually annoy and guilt her lover out of bed to help.

She loves bed-head Rick, all grumbling and cuddly. His usual erudite vocabulary reduced to grunts and half words, so much so that touch and kisses are often the most communicative way for him to express himself.

After breakfast, Kate has a surprise for Rick. She had found her Dad's BB rifle and some pellets whilst tidying.

So retrieving the used cans from the rubbish, they had set them up on the stone wall that ran along the northern boundary line and they plinked away. Of course it soon degenerated into a competition with their usual trash-talking, blatant attempts to distract and hinder their opponent and outright cheating. Rick conceded defeat when Kate whipped her Glock out from underneath her tank top and blew the cans off the wall and into the field beyond whilst smirking ridiculously smugly.

He was still grumbling about hot women with hidden weapons as she pushed him into passenger seat of the Jeep and took him to town.

* * *

_**Chapter 2 – Beginnings of 'One of Us' GOES HERE** _

* * *

As soon as the Sheriff said they could go, they were out of there and in the Jeep racing back to the cabin. So keen that Castle hadn't even changed out of the forensic evidence suit. She had been right back in town. Definitely not flattering. Maybe there was something to his expensive, custom styled attire.

They shower first, washing the crime scene grime and the memories away.

Freshly scrubbed, and naked they celebrated survival, of dodging another brush with death, and walking away together. For the first and last time that weekend they make love in the bed.

Lying there later, Kate gazes at the dozing form of her partner.

It's almost time to get up and head back to the city. They'll have to come up here again. Maybe with their family, although she's aware that both of them will have a hard time escaping the memories of their escapades, especially downstairs. She could image their blushes already. Her Dad and Martha are alarmingly good at detecting that sort of detail too.

Looking back at him, she has no more doubts.

He's become everything to her. All her fears of entering a relationship with him had come true. She's in so deep, there's no way out. No way either of them would survive the untimely departure of the other. This is it.

Soon. She would tell him soon. She'll need to decide what to do about her place. But she knows what she wants. She wants to surprise him. Be the one to take to take the lead and take them forward. She knows he's been cautious, moderating the pace for fear of scaring her off. But she's in this. Really in this, for good. One and done, over and out. It's time to tell him.

She leans over to him, and gently kisses his mouth. It's time to get up and had back to their other life. And their future.

* * *

She lets him drive back too. The music cranked up and they head back to the city blissfully unaware that the events of the weekend will change everything.


	2. Taking a load ….. off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome the second M rated accompaniment to 'One of Us'.
> 
> This fits with Chapter 58 'Making Plans' of One of Us.
> 
> WARNING – M rated includes sexual content. If it is not your thing please don't continue reading.
> 
> Disclaimer – I don't own anything to do with Castle except my copy of the DVD's and books. Any and all legal stuff applies too.

**Their Loft** **,** **Thursday Morning**

When Kate woke up she found herself face to face with Richard Castle.

Not that was an unusual experience of late, given they were in a relationship and she had moved in, but still it could give a girl a bit of a start. Especially a long term, incorrigible fan girl. Like her. You could say she was living her dream but it was so much more than she had ever dreamt possible.

Of course she had done her best not to share how much of a fan girl she is – or at least not too much - with him. Although she suspects he may have uncovered more than she wanted to share about that too. He always did. Yet now somehow he kept that too himself. Not like the early days. They had both changed – themselves and each other. For the better. For each other.

He was far more complicated than his one-dimensional playboy persona. How had she not seen through that façade earlier? There are some days she wants to kick herself for waiting so long to take a chance on them. But on the other hand as Lanie had pointed out after Kate had confessed all about finally starting a relationship with her man-child, it had been a four year long courtship just without the extra benefit. Mind you Lanie has finished with the assurance that 'there was no way smart people like you two could stay that dumb forever'.

But this morning her issues were more in line with a severe case of 'Castle scratch-my-itch.' After all it has been more than two weeks. The longest they had ever, well not had sex.  _Man, that sounded worse in her head that she imagined. But accurate. She really did want to fuck his brains out._

Being naked didn't help either. Not at all.

Having her unencumbered form moulded into his hot body was definitely not ideal at all – if you wanted to resist the temptation, nay need for sexual release.

Except it was.

Still a little tired, she lets her eyes drift closed even as she focuses her thoughts, and her senses on the body she is wrapped around. She pulls herself in close, and pushes her hips forward, hooking one leg over him. This brings her nicely into contact with him.

Just his proximity is enough sometimes, but in their bed she's such a goner. His body heat should be cloying, driving her away, and instead it draws her in, seeking his heart and gentle bulk. She's never been with anyone like him. She doesn't believe there is anyone like him. Certainly not for her.

He's not lean, even solid is a slight stretch these days but she finds she doesn't care. The fire within her comes from the entire person not just his outer shell. It's not to say he lacks a physical presence but despite his size - she internally rolls her eyes at her own unconscious double entendre - but well deserved based on the evidence beside her - he rarely imposes it on others, especially her.

More importantly he loves her with everything he has. He's considerate, goofy even, tender, passionate and on occasion, sometimes quite often if the mood takes them, extremely dirty. The last has her on edge today.

She's more than conscious that her body is betraying her. Moving against him. Subtle for sure, but definitely in motion. Undulating even. She's she sure she is flushed but whether in embarrassment or desire, or both she's not certain. She can feel the internal heat and she knows if she sneaks a hand down there she'll be open and ready for him. Already she can catch a hint of her musk.

She senses the change in his breathing and when she peaks one eye open to check sure enough there are two gorgeous blue ones, gleaming back at her. Then there's a twitch of the nose. Then a definite sniff. Oh my! The eyes shine and then darken. Busted!

They share one of their brief interchanges that epitomise the complexities and conventions of their relationship before she decided to hell with doctors' orders and propositions him.

Just as he remarks on her naked state she decides to play up and makes an exaggerated show of stretching, using her toes to push the covers down as she arches her back and reveals two nicely perky breasts and semi-tumescent nipples. Lovely if she does say so herself. Horny is more apt. Fucking turned on is spot on.

She can sense the impact upon her partner. He's drawn to her breasts but displays a remarkable calm reserving his worship merely to the heated brush of his eyes across her body. No touching. Yet.

He probably thinks this is going to go nowhere, that she'd follow doctor's orders. No doubt he thinks with the existing medical advice he doesn't stand a chance. He's so wrong. Well Kate can channel her Rebel Becks and is on the case. She always take a chance with him.

She could mess with him, and by default teasing is second nature to them both, but this morning she decides that total honesty is her first choice.

Rolling onto her right side, and closing back the small gap between them, she is leaning forward intruding into his space until her lips are hovering above his nose, and she whispers.

"Well how about we come up with a way to avoid raising you heart rate but still enjoy ourselves?"

"Really?"

"Yes, oh yeSss." She deliberately draws out the last syllable and is rewarded with him swallowing and in a slightly croaky voice asks.

"What about Doctor's orders?"

"Doctors, Smoctors. Dated one, they know nothing."  _Fucking right they don't._

He doesn't blink. Doesn't call her on it. Instead she gets sass.

"Rebel Becks? Is that you?"

She smacks his chest, more in relief that anything.

"Careful or you won't find out."

"Sorry" But the glint in those baby-blues says a lot more.

"No you're not. But get up."

"I might be already."

She decided to check. Glancing the back of one hand over his pelvic area.

There is a firm twitch of confirmation!

"Stand up." She husks.

He complies, strategically removing the bed cover and sheet as he gets up completely exposing her. He doesn't look sorry at all.

She's not either, and in turn she makes no move to cover her nakedness. Instead grins at him and drops onto her back with her body flush against the sinfully smooth cotton and to cap it all, stretches her limbs out and opens her legs for good measure.

She knows she's aroused and her lips already gently parting of their own accord.

She's not sure if she moans, but she swears he did. No doubt he can see just how ready she is. Her scent is starting to pervade the room. She knows he can sense it too.

Parts of him are stretching too, reacting very positively to this morning's developments. He's tenting his pyjama bottoms as he stands there. Her eyes burn bright as she shamelessly ogles him front and rear.

He moves back toward the bed and her.

But then she speaks up. "Castle, there is no way we're doing it in the bed."

"Why?" He seems genuinely bemused by her statement and isn't pouting, and he moves closer and she snaps at him.

"Don't whine it's unbecoming. You're better than that."

"For the record Detective, I wasn't whining. Or pouting. Simply curious as where would be a better place to have sex than OUR bed." He's remarkably calm.

"Ah so it's curious minds, eh Castle?" And she dives straight on through to make her case.

"Well one, I just changed the sheets the other day. If we do the bedding laundry again your mother is going to know.

"I'm pretty sure my mother knows we have sex Kate."

"Not my point. Just bear with me a second or two."

"Oh. Okay."

"Two, when did you last….um."

"When did I last what Beckett?" His smirk indicates quite clearly that he understands her incomplete question.

"When did you last cum?"

"When were we last  _together_ ,Kate."

_So fifteen days ago she mentally calculates._

"Yeah, well you remember when you came back from that six day book tour?"

"Um yeah. It was after work and you were already at the Old Haunt with Lanie and the gang. And I came straight from the airport."

"And we went off for the quickie in the office."

"OH!"

"Yes and I was dripping the rest of the evening."

"Yes you were."

"You don't have to sound so damn proud of yourself Castle."

"But I am. Or at least was. God Kate that was such a blast."

"Exactly. So if we're doing it this morning it is in the shower. You can  _blast off_  in there with no concerns."

"Is that an invitation?"

"Grnnmm" She snarls at him but in good humour.

"Guess that must be a yes. Good. Cause something is going to explode soon."

She suddenly rolls upright and bolts from the bed, almost sprinting for the bathroom, shaking her completely naked arse in invitation as she retreats.

Over her shoulder she chucks what should be one final set of commands.

"Shower time! And lose the clothes Bigboy."

"Bossy, but I like it." She can hear him. Still sassing her as he watches her naked derrière disappear through the doorway to the en suite.

She stops just inside the door.

"Why are you still over there? Shower. Now!"

With that she disappears into his cavernous bathroom and the shower with more jets that the Air Force and a nice solid seat.

It's going to be perfect, or near enough.

* * *

Having a boyfriend with a luxury pad. No strike that. Living with her life partner is their luxury apartment has a number of privileges. Not least is the bathrooms. First and foremost amongst these was their bathroom.

The en-suite was simply phenomenal. Twin sinks with enough space around for two adults, even with both having equal volumes of care products.

Then there was the shower and within the shower, the standout, the star feature that was the shower seat. Oh hell, the entire shower was award worthy but the seat was the pinnacle. It was heated, had adjustable water jets, and was long and broad enough for a wide range of activities.

* * *

With her head straight in the lack of clothing stacks, she had already set the jets to medium and the temperature to a comfortable level before he finished removing his sleepwear.

Once he was stripped off, she took of his already tumescent cock in hand and led him into the shower.

She had parked him on the shower seat, and was now washing him with a heavy dose of tease. Kisses punctuating increasing more fervent caresses and contact.

Just part of the entire effect was the body wash with the essence of pink grapefruit and its effect is well…fruity. She had been in control until he stole the loofah from her and started upon her body, returning the favours in full.

She's up close with him. So close that the water pools in places where they become one.

And right now he's inhaling her.

In more ways than one.

Whilst his good hand is navigating the loofah teasingly across her arse and between her legs, his mouth is around her right breast and he's teasing and nipping at her. His tongue dancing tantalizingly across her flushed chest, then withdrawing to allow him to settle his bite onto her areolae.

She's had enough. She snatches the loofah back from his hand, and taking his left wrist guides his hand straight between her legs.

"No more teasing." She pushes firmly on his hand, so his palms smacks against her.

"Touch me!"

So he does. Without further delay. His first strokes her confirm her fully aroused state so he doesn't hold back, and yet he is respectful and considerate even as he inserts first one and then two thick digits into her. Invading her folds, sliding inside, probing and stimulating. His thumb joins in, strumming her clitoris and she responding, driving her hips forward building towards her climax.

This is going to be fast, and loud.

As Rick is driving her towards her peak, her right hand curls around his erection and begins to caress it in a pattern they have discovered together. One that can bring him to a crashing crescendo in no time at all, or merely prepare him for an extended bout of lovemaking. Today she settles for somewhere in between.

Her climax almost takes her by surprise but she rides it out, all the time not releasing his hand from within her.

The aftershocks continue to ripple as she gets him comfortable and ready. She's rolled up a towel to provide a head rest and dropped that on one end of the shower seat.

Turning him around so he brings his legs, she's pushing him back so he's reclined on the shower seat. It is more like a bench and it needs to be as his bulk fills most of the space. Still there is room enough for her. They've done this before. And liked it. A lot.

With measured grace she alights onto the bench and standing above him, she places her heels either side of him and then she begins.

She squats down, her long, lean legs folding as she merges their cores together.

Her left hand pushes against the shower wall to assist herself, and her right seeks him out and straightens him to align his cock with her entrance.

She's still clenching as she settles on him, sinking down, hot wet, heat firing the connection between them as she encompasses him.

For Rick the sensation is near overwhelming. With Kate doing all the work all he has to do is drown in the wave of feedback tearing through his body.

"So gooood." Slips from his mouth and she leans forward bending from her waste to taste his lips even whilst maintain full contact between them. Straightening she begins to move.

Through shuttered eyelids she observes how he reacts to her, surrendering himself to their merging, and she lets herself follow suit.

His hands come up seeking contact, seeking the sensation and stimuli of her body.

He thumbs both nipples at once, and she grunts in response.

She picks up the pace.

Fit as she is, she can't maintain this momentum for long enough nor does she want to.

"Close?" She forces the question out between the gasps.

"Ahhh hunnn."

She takes that as a yes.

So she slows. She immediately senses his disappointment as his peak retreats and the crescendo backs off.

Still the sensation is nearing exquisite agony when she breaks the connection between them, slowly rising off him, legs protesting.

They both feel the loss as she completes her rise and then steps down off the shower seat with unsteady legs, one hand forced to reach for something solid to stabilise her.

She turns back to face him and extends her arms. Intuitively he reaches out with his own hands and they clasp wrists and she leans back and assists his ascension to the vertical.

But no more. She places a hand on his shoulder to halt him before he can rise from the seat. He's sat there with his feet touching the floor.

She leans in to steal and bestow more kisses to lips, mouth and face before turning around, presenting her derriere to him.

Before he can do more than just ogle, she backs into him and with a simple shimmy of the hips, rises up and then sinks straight down on him.

He slides home, filling her so completely.

Then she begins again, using the long levers of her legs to drive herself up and down on him. Rick is motionless, too lost once again in the sensations to intervene, and why should he? It's so nearly perfect.

His hands come up again, seeking her out. The first contact just below her ribs is electrifying, and then they move higher and even before the rough pads reach her areolae and torment her nipples further. All the time she is twisting on him, driving her own hunt for a climax onwards.

Close.

Closer.

She rises just enough for him to slip out and she grinds her arse on him as he springs back making contact with his stomach with a satisfying smack. She grins into her mass of hair, teeth teasing one corner of her mouth.

"Fuck Beckett!" It's guttural, low, coarse and she burns with the need for him.

His hands are still firmly anchored to her breasts.

One hand reaches behind and draws him into the vale of her arse. This is only brief, teasing contact as she slides him through the taunt canyon because this is not how she wants them to finish.

She has plans.

But first.

Flipping round, her sudden movement forces his hands from her chest. She sinks on her haunches, and her mouth closes over him before he can protest. The size of him forces her tongue to the base of her mouth but still she laves him, tasting herself on him.

He grunts in acknowledgement. She hums her own appreciation and feels him respond more.

But all too quickly for him she is rising again. The sigh of disappointment that issues from him elicits a sly smile from her. He won't be complaining in seconds.

A quick glance ensures he is far back on the seat as he can go. There is room enough.

Facing him, she move up and then she kneels on the edge of the shower seat, settling astride his thighs.

She runs both hands through her wet locks, pulling them clear of her face. Moving down her own body she rubs one nipple and then the other with her own hands before she takes him in both of hers, and guides him home.

As the searing sensations resume for both of them, she loops her right arm around his shoulder and neck, pulling their heads in close enough that their tongues dance across each other's teeth, and she begins to move.

He's been largely passive all this time, but now with a grunt he starts to move with her. It's sloppy and not quite in key but close enough as his hips buck into her.

Despite her own recent climax, she senses another one building irrevocably.

She throws her head back and he lunges his head forward, his mouth attacking her pulse point.

Her left hand snakes between them, and she pushes the 'v' of her first two fingers into her lips and firmly over her clit. She's so near.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

The third times the charm and it's enough to overwhelm her as she orgasms.

She clamps down hard on him as her muscles contract in blissful, agony. She's strangely quiet for this one, although she can feel her teeth locked together almost in rictus.

Her trigger carries him over, and the roar of release when it hits him is almost debilitating in its intensity.

"Graagghhh." There may be a little too much teeth at this point but she can't care as the man she loves loses himself in her.

Despite her own overloaded senses, the floor of his release into her is vivid and intense, his pulses fighting and combining with her own tremors as they plateau together.

It takes a little while for them to recover, but with her knees beginning to hurt Kate rises off him only to have copious evidence of their mutual desire and previous lack of release pool around his cock and pelvis.

She giggles. He tries to look offended but fails his pout as he radiates satisfaction.

"Wow. You really did need to take a load off Rick."

* * *

**Sometime Later...**

They emerged from their living space through the study, both freshly scrubbed and holding hands, sharing ridiculously wide grins.

"Oh good morning you two."

"Crap Mother!" Rick starts at the surprising presence of his mother downstairs at this early hour. Moreover she's dressed, although at first glance the bright assault on their eyes could be mistaken for some pyjamas.

They both want to turn tail but the diva has them in her sights. All too surprised to completely wipe the satisfied grins from their faces. All it would take is for a knowing glance from her to have them both blushing deeply.

Kate recovers first.

"Good Morning Martha."

"Well look at you. Don't you both positively look glowing this morning?" The arched eyebrow says it all. And here comes the blush reflex. For both of them.

"Shit!" He's muttered it under his breath but she can hear it. If Martha heard it she's at least being diplomatic about that.

"So Martha what has got you up so early?"

"Well I came down from some tea and I could hear the shower running. Richard, you really should get that pipe fixed. It still knocks when the shower is in use. Especially for long periods of time."

Mortified would be one word Kate could pick for that moment. If only it was the first – and last – time Martha has 'busted' them having sex. Well at least they were in the privacy of their bathroom this time.

"Anyway Dears, I shall be leaving shortly. I shall be going to Hampton's house to check on progress with the little renovations. I plan to stay overnight and return tomorrow."

"And the fact it's Thursday and it's Ladies Night at Julian's has nothing to do with it Mother?" Rick finally finds his voice.

"Don't ask unless you want to know." She says as she ambles over and pats his cheek with a mother's touch, and aims a sly wink at Kate who can't help but smirk a little as Rick pales at his mother's insinuation.

Letting go of each other they head into the kitchen to fix breakfast. Martha has resumed her place at the breakfast bar, sipping her tea.

Shortly Rick and Kate have finished preparations for their oats and fruit along with the oh-so-necessary caffeine, and join his mother at the breakfast bar. Once they have sat down the Diva resumes.

"Well I must go finish getting ready. The driver will be here shortly." Martha pauses clearly considering something before she asks. "So have you two had a pleasant morning so far? What else do you have planned for the day?"

Kate responds for them.

"Oh Yes!"

There is a slightly breathy element to her voice.

"We plan to finish packing and organising a few things. The press outside seem to have dropped to single figures but we'll stay home if possible.

"But in answer to your first question Martha yes we've had a very pleasant morning. Haven't we Rick?"

_She seriously doesn't expect him to answer that?! Does she?_

"Well morning sex will do that for you Martha. As we didn't want to mess the sheets we had a very lovely time in the shower. Didn't we Rick?"

_Crap why does she keep asking me these questions?_

Kate has kept her eyes on Martha all the time and she can swear the woman just turned about five shades paler as she retreats at pace, speechless for once. She can almost hear Rick's jaw bounce of the kitchen bench beside her.

As his Mother concludes her hasty retreat upstairs, a rapidly recovering Rick raises a hand for a high-five from Kate and can't help himself from joining in.

"Don't ask if you don't want to know, Mother!"

Kate knows she should be perhaps a little horrified but has to actually fight back the laughter.

Rick is looking at her with gleaming eyes.

"You know it never occurred to me. Rather than cringe, simply give her more information that she needs."

"God, whatever you do, don't tell Alexis or you'll never hear the end of it."

"True. Plus I'm really sure I don't want to know."

"That too Lover Man."


	3. Road to Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome the third M rated accompaniment to 'One of Us'.
> 
> This fits with the end of Chapter 63 'Reality Check' of One of Us.
> 
> WARNING – M rated includes sexual content. If it is not your thing please don't continue reading.
> 
> Disclaimer – even in my wildest dreams I don't own Castle (Beckett surely does, she at least gets him naked). The legal stuff applies too.

* * *

She could feel the tension burning through him. All the frustrations firing inside him. He has a clever mouth and a sharp tongue if provoked, it's just that he's usually such a gentleman.

Is there something wrong with her if she doesn't want him to be that guy just now? To be gentle with her.

Taut muscles flare at her slightest touch. The slight grimace and the edge of his incisors on display. All he'd need to do was snarl to complete the picture. She can't stop the unconscious snigger that escapes and wants to laugh more when his face darkens just a little more. Such a man-child. Her man-child.

Still time to snap him out of his funk. Fuck him out of his funk. She smiles wider at that. But this time tinged with something else. Something else he catches. He doesn't look quite so grim now.

He's not so out of it that he resists her. She can't really remember a time that he has since. Well since she finally gave in to the crashing longing that infused every part of her. That still does.

She remaps his body. She knows it well enough. He's not the only one who has been observing all those years. But having all areas access to the naked Richard Castle. White whale indeed.

All the crooks and crannies, the sweet spots, the sensitive spots, the ticklish spots, and the hot spots. Definitely not the penultimate ones tonight. They had a lot of fun and laughs surprisingly in (and out) of bed, but tonight wasn't that sort of occasion. It was meant to be comfort but maybe more.

Rick stiffens, resistance throbbing from him. She doubts herself and her plan for a second. Maybe being naked wasn't the best idea.

No damn it. She's doing this. She's not letting him hide. She did that and look how destructive that was, so close to ending them before they begun. She couldn't say before they had a chance because really how many of those were there?

So she persists.

Takes her time.

Cheats a little.

Well a lot really.

Uses her weapons. She'll admit to a little egotism about her arsenal of weapons.

Her skills.

Her instinct.

Her love.

The trail of her nails across him, leaving temporary tracks against his skin. Marking him as hers. Even as the indentations fade, she repeats them. Scoring deeper. His breathing settles but deepens.

She persists, and really he's no match for her when she's so determined.

Her long legs pushing against his far more than solid thighs. They are like trunks. Just like him, strong, dependable and rocks against the tide of life. The storms that rage against them. But they survive. More than that, they prosper.

She settles her core against his hip and oh fuck she can feel herself mat against the protruding mass of muscle and bone. An involuntary buck of her own hips drives her harder against him. She may have even moaned.

Gently does it.

She can't resist. Her left hand seeks assurance, confirmation that he's in this too.

She finds the confirmation she is looking for. His body tightens as he inhales and tenses slightly at her touch. But then surrenders.

The huff of relief is all too quickly overwhelmed by incessant need.

He's more than ready. The breadth of him nearly daunting if she didn't already treasure the knowledge of how it breaks her apart and rebuilds her in the most intense and intimate way.

But not yet.

She withdraws her and damn there is gaping, hollow sensation at the absence of his hip. She feels his body try to follow, to move of its own accord, to seek hers out.

Her left arms stills him as she rises up.

She kneels beside him and leans forward above him, her body angled diagonally across from his left hip to right shoulder. She ignores the bindings and bandages.

For the first time since they've got into bed she can see his eyes. Fire reflects at her. Not anger now. Just desire. The red heat that has been smouldering inside him, hers for the taking.

He touches her for the first time. His left hand glances across the back of her legs. She almost collapses into him.

She centres her head on his and lunges.

Kisses. All tongue and teeth, no need for gentle nips and exploration. Expressing their driving need. His own want echoes back as they kiss.

She breaks away panting. So is he.

His hand has stopped journeying across her and withdraws. Before she can do more than mourn the loss of contact, they return. His fingers brush the inside of her thighs and straight into her gaping need.

She moves her head and body higher, and she glimpses the momentary confusion before she does what he cannot for the moment do, and uses her own right hand to feed her left boob to him.

They are so much in sync that the rasp of his tongue across her areolae almost perfectly meshes with the drive of two fingers into her.

Her orgasm surprises her with its ease even as the cries escape her mouth. There was a time when she would have been embarrassed, self-conscious, not to mention maybe mentally fraught by it. The ease of her surrender to him. Releasing the need to be in control, worse losing control.

She's grateful it was relaxed and not the debilitating kind that leaves her incapacitated. She needs to take care of him now. Immediately.

She swings her left leg over his right hip and as she sinks down she pushes his erection flat against his stomach.

Gently rocking she glides her core over the base of him, both gasping at the sensation. Her orgasm hasn't really left her and she knows that she'll go again shortly.

His left hand reaches towards her but at the last second diverts from her chest and caresses her cheek. His thumb swipes under her right eye and she feels the moisture between her skin and his. She shudders in surprise. She was crying and she didn't even realise.

She needs his eyes. They'll reverse cowgirl another night. An awkward uncomfortable position that shouldn't work so well except it does. So many do for them. The reverse cowgirl is one of their favorites for outright fucking. The different angle provides a cacophony of sensations overloading her synapses. His appreciation of her arse doesn't hurt either, and well some exploration of boundaries has been undertaken. But not tonight.

The gaze that meets hers is almost too intense.

She focuses on her task at hand. She takes him in her left, and her thumb caresses his head and can feel the expectation leaking from him. She rubs his precum into him and keens at the involuntary responses it evokes from her man.

She lifts her hand away and brings her thumb to her mouth. Tasting him.

She leans forward to kiss him again, and this simple movement pulls her away from his length.

They share the slightly bitter echo of his desire and with a final gentle push of her lips to his, she launches herself upright.

Once vertical she forgets all else as she rises further and this time she seeks him with both hands. In a practised and familiar move aligns him perfectly as she descends.

She takes him in one. The slightest echo of surprise in his eyes as she bottoms out first time.

Of course she's not unaffected by this overwhelming cacophony of sensation. Grunts again.

The feral grin that greets her body's confession is more welcome than it should be. She needs him in this moment so she'll let his masculine pride have its time.

It is only a matter of minutes. They're all too close. Both recognise this, and he's encased in her and nothing else. They're lost in each other, nothing else matters.

She feels the words but before he can speak them, she stills them with her fingers on his lips and what she hopes he understands is acceptance and love in her eyes. That she's all the way in and accepting of every possible consequence for their actions. Just like that first night.

His own dark orbs narrow in recognition and determination. He drives deeper into her even as she reciprocates.

The salacious slap of flesh and their own excitement is the soundtrack to their otherwise silent fandango with the only other noise the passage of air sucked into desperate lungs as they climb together.

Until they crest the peak almost together, and Kate throws herself forward in time to crash 'Rick' into his mouth just as 'Kate' fires from his own as they shatter into each other.

Only one more word is exchanged as they recover. Rick mumbles into her, barely loud enough. "Stay." She's not going anywhere.

Later as they both race towards sleep, she reflects. She had wanted to offer him relief from the frustrations and reality of his injury. Instead, together they had shown each other so much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while but back in the saddle so to speak.


	4. Tall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two of Us - Tall
> 
> Summary: Set during Rick's recovery (sometime around Chapters 71/72 of One of Us). They are still in the Hamptons. Rick has to go out for a while arrives back at the house in the early evening. Kate is waiting for him.
> 
> WARNING M RATED SMUT AHEAD.
> 
> Disclaimer – You could claim ownership of Castle but collars are covered under a different kind of kink.

* * *

**The Hamptons**

He once told he liked her because she was tall.

Well it was true.

Only now it's more than liking. Still true but it's so, so much more.

She's still tall. Some days taller than others.

On the days she's not so tall he's there to help her stand right back up and be tall again.

This isn't one of those days.

* * *

Right now she's about the tallest he's ever seen her.

She's standing near the top of the stairs just one step below the landing.

Red Stilettos with maybe a five inch heel.

Sheer dark, silk stockings, a simple suspender belt of black satin with highlights in red.

Nothing else.

Except for bright-red fuck-my-mouth lipstick and that cum-in-his-pants smoky eyeliner.

Thank you Universe!

* * *

She says nothing, but sways slightly between each leg, hips shimmying, ripples of delight as the stockings glimmer with the subtle undulation of her long, lean legs.

He follows the legs up to her 'V'. Oh fuck she's shaved again, just the small patch at the top left this time. Even from the fifteen or so feet that separate them – too fucking far by half but it's not time to address that, yet. Even from here he can see the detail of her, the soft, silken folds, flush with blood and desire. Shit there is no way she hasn't been pleasuring herself whilst waiting for him to return.

His inspection passes over her abs, the subtle softness with a core of solid muscles hidden just below. The strength of her, and the softness she reveals only for him.

Then her breasts. Perfect. In proportion to her body, enhancing her sexuality and beauty, not defining them. Sensitive and yet resilient, responding to the lightest and firmest of touches.

To her face. The red, red lips set in a teasing smile, the hint of tongue behind them.

It's the eyes though that have him mesmerized. Her green eyes. Somnolent and smoky, bewitching and beguiling, but also contrasting with a come hither surmounted by a 'Stay Boy!', I love you but you drive me-up-the-wall'.

Right now they're laughing, teasing, rolling in sarcasm, burning bright and so fucking sexy.

He starts to move, one foot on the bottoms step. He's dimly aware of his overcoat on the floor behind him and the fact he's wearing too many fucking clothes.

She wags her finger.

He stops.

He is rewarded with a bright smile but nothing else.

Well nothing else matters because from where he's standing he's the luckiest man in the 'Verse.

* * *

Then she starts to step up to the landing. In reverse, all the time facing him. He appreciates the view but one of her lovely arse framed by the suspenders and mounted on those legs and fuck-me stilettos wouldn't go amiss either.

Her finger hooks. Come hither.

Oh she has him.

He almost bounds up the stairs but somehow maintains a measured pace.

There is a love seat on the landing. And bed sheets. One on the love seat cascading onto the floor in front of the relocated seating.

The other where he is standing.

Oh!

* * *

She rotates so he gets the desired view of her ass.

With her back to him she raises one leg and places the spike of the stiletto onto the love seat.

Coyly looking over her shoulder she licks her lips, the pink tongue muted against the burning fire of the vivid red lipstick.

Her eyes are ablaze too.

She nods down at his groin.

Stays fixed there before returning to him.

He reaches down and releases himself.

He's already hard. So much so that it is moderately uncomfortable extracting himself from his boxers and then his slacks.

He's already slick with his own pre-cum.

Of course she's more than aware of that.

Her own intimate knowledge of him is constantly growing. He's not the only one who does research and for the record he fucking loves her methodology.

She has turned around again and settles back into the love seat, her arse far up the seat and her legs bent akimbo so he can see all of her.

He catches her looking at him as he finishes bringing himself out.

His eyes on hers, he rubs his thumb along the edge of his head, fighting the urge to fully fist himself.

She doesn't blush, although she is flushed from other emotions and exertions.

Instead she looks at him in challenge.

He frowns, playing obstinate or perhaps dumb just a little before complying, so that she shows him wants she wants.

He's pretty sure he wants it too.

As her hands travel her taunt torso they somewhat roughly grab and molest her tits. For some reasons she loves that noun. His use of it can reduce her to fiery mush.

Then lower.

Oh, she wants him to reciprocate.

He can do that.

* * *

He almost loses himself in the way her heels dig into the sheets, her legs bent as she thrusts her crotch upwards into the three fingers she has inserted in herself. She's definitely warmed up earlier as she is not being gentle. She really is finger fucking herself.

Driving her hand fully into herself, she withdraws her fingers and lifts her hand up her body in slow seduction that first teases her clit, before trailing her heat up her torso and across her left nipple before landing on her jaw. Then her mouth opens and her tongue snakes out past red lips to glide across her own digits and caress them and taste herself, before retreating back beyond the lips.

He mirrors her action. First taking a proper grip and pumping himself a few times.

The sense of loss as he lets go is disconcerting.

Still he raises his thumb to his mouth and rasps his tongue over the pad tasting the bitter tinged liquid.

He hasn't done that in years.

"Fuck Castle!" It's so quiet he almost misses it, but she's spoken for the first time.

Was it an instruction or merely her desire breeching her previously iron discipline.

She nods back down at his cock. Her tongue teasing the edge of those violently red lips. He wants so much to plunder them and then fuck them too.

She nods again, eyes firing up with impatience.

He reaches back down and resumes his strokes.

This time she is mirroring him.

Then it happens.

No warning.

Her body locks.

All movement suspended for fractions, and then her limbs fly apart.

She spasms and slams back on the seat.

The most sensual moan passes her lips.

But it's not over.

Fucking Hell!

She's orgasming and there is a small stream of clear liquid squirting from her.

Holy Shit! She's never done that before. Or at least where he can fully appreciate the awesome sexuality of her ejaculating so powerfully.

It's possibly one of the most erotic things he's ever seen from her. And there is quite a list.

The impact is only heightened into incandescence by the soundtrack of surrender issuing from between her lips.

It far surpasses anything he's ever experienced. Elsewhere, with someone else, even with her. So far.

Because she's doing this for him, because of him.

The need to reciprocate overwhelms him.

He desperately seeks to follow her.

He's losing all control as he grasps himself, caring not for the slight need for more lubrication, the longing, the desperation for release is all.

And yet even as he searches for his own crescendo he is looking right at her.

She holds up a hand as if to call a pause.

He struggles to obey, the pent up release fighting any last vestiges of control he can no longer muster.

He can't let go but he at least pauses, intensely aware of the thunderous pulse through his prick.

Her hand emerges from beside her and throws a small dark bundle towards him. It lands beside him and he bends down to scoop it up with his right hand, his left firmly attached to his cock.

Shit it's another pair of stockings. From first glance they look exactly like the ones she's wearing.

"For me." She speaks. But there's so many more words conveyed. He understands.

He nods, afraid to speak and break the spell.

Releasing himself with a groan, he separates the ultrafine material, sensing how the sheen pulls against even the slightest resistance of his skin as he unravels them.

But before he can do more she is beside him taking the stockings back from him. She's close enough to touch, to smell. Feel the heat undulating off her, the desire so strong.

So close that he begins to shake with the need for her.

Senses overloaded and yet she has control still.

Somehow he does too.

Then she steps back and he wants to scream at her to stay, he wants to throw himself on her. Never let go.

But he's insanely curious about what she intends to do, and this momentarily wins over the siren call for release.

Taking the stockings in her left hand she lets them drop, snaking out, and brings that hand closer to her front. Her right hand drops behind and with just the smallest of dips, she stretches that hand back between her legs and seize the bottom of the hanging stockings.

Then she raises the long twists of nylon between her legs.

And her arms move.

Sawing the stockings right through her sex and dew of her release.

The shiny material darkening as it receives a coating her essence.

Good, long, hard strokes.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

She shudders. Top teeth nipping down and then biting into the violent red lips, and yet the moan escapes her mouth.

The vestiges of her last climax or the precursor of her next?

She ceases the movement and her rear hand releases the bottom of the stockings.

Still for seconds as she fights to regain control of her body.

He swears he hears the slightest moan from her as she raises the stockings to her mouth and from between the red lips, her tongue glides out to caress the material. She's licking her own juices from the stockings and God it's almost the sexiest moment he can recall.

Eyes gleaming she challenges him back.

She passes the stockings back to him and he mimics her movements.

At the taste of her, he nearly falls. So nearly crashes his body into hers.

Her posture shifts and her gaze falls to his groin.

He knows what she wants.

Taking one stocking in his right hand, he moves it down to the base, encircling the shaft and cupping his sac, he can feel the full release pulsing, building down there. The material glides across his hypersensitive flesh, providing no resistance to his actions, only another layer of sensation that has his body on the verge of the paroxysm of orgasm.

With its partner in his left hand, he wraps his palm around his shaft and begins to wank himself. As his hand approaches the top, his thumb pushes the material across his tip, drawing in the pre-cum, and firing more sensations that are stripping all control from him.

"Yes."

One word.

Permission.

So he climaxes.

Blessed relief.

The surrender is total.

He loses all control of his body.

His mind even.

His legs buckle and he staggers, knees folding, but somehow remains somewhat upright.

His synapses overloaded he can only shudder uncontrollably as the seizure thunders through him.

He tastes the acrid iron of blood. He's bitten his tongue. He doesn't care. Yet.

He's still pulsing into her stockings as she approaches on those heels.

Fuck Me!

Oh yes please do…..just give me a little time to recover.

* * *

She doesn't.

She stands astride him, a Colossus of lust. There is a reassuring smirk on her face, that slightly sardonic expression of love, amusement, desire.

But there is only fire in her eyes.

The determination that she is not done yet.

She pushes him down, onto his back, his legs stretching out.

She's bending over and he watches her perfect bust tilt and move with her torso. Her tits taunt him and he unconsciously lifts his head towards them.

Only to be stopped as her hand scoots down between them and relieves him of her relieved-upon stockings from around the base of his cock.

She brings that hand back to her face and the stocking is bought to her lips once more.

Again her tongue is action.

Tasting their combined satisfaction.

She moves again.

Closer.

Much closer.

Then she is crushingly close to him.

Just the narrows chasm of air rife with the scent of their bodies and lust between them.

Then she brings her face down, the stocking still in front of her mouth.

And she's kissing him through the gossamer fabric and mix of their juices combined and they taste fantastic.

He's hardening already.

Her other hand finds him.

A squeeze.

Tighter.

Reassurance?

Or inspection?

Satisfied?

She rocks her hips and she squats and rises, brushing him across first one of the sleek sheer nylons that caress her legs, and then the other.

The sensation fires him on as she settles down closer.

She's fully astride him now, her crotch over his groin and one hand gripping him.

Rubbing him against her.

The other used stocking still covers his tip. She's holding it in place whilst she fists him and uses him as her own personal sex toy.

His hands finally reach her tits. Thumbs seeking out her hard nipples, and tormenting them further this allow causing her eyes to start to flutter and her breath to stutter.

Pushing his head across the swollen flesh, and then in just a fraction, she shudders and calls out.

The next climax spills from her and he can only watch in awe as he feels her tighten and pulse around him even though it is only the head of cock that inside her.

There is less discharge but more than enough to drench his length and reach his pubes, firing his desire beyond breaking point.

He's fully hard.

Her needs her now.

He is going to fuck her until he comes again.

And her.

That may take a while.

But he's game. Knows she is too.

He has all the motivation and inspiration he'll ever need.

* * *

But then suddenly she's not complying with his desires.

The agony of their proximity lost as her body moves away.

Rising, unsteadily he notes with more the frisson of satisfaction, she turns and heads towards their bedroom.

He almost cries at the loss.

He forces his limbs back into motion.

Levering his body up.

She is already moving away from him.

Then she pauses.

Her most perfect derriere framed by her suspenders atop the tall towers of her legs.

She twists her head back over her shoulder, one tit sneaking into view with the movement, the self-satisfied and cheeky smirk enough to shake him into action.

"You coming Castle?"


End file.
